


To Be Loved

by CrystallizedTwilight



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27893176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystallizedTwilight/pseuds/CrystallizedTwilight
Summary: Éponine gets the happy ending she deserves, which is different yet decidedly better than the one she'd envisioned.
Relationships: Cosette Fauchelevent/Éponine Thénardier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	To Be Loved

Éponine remembers very little of Cosette. Both her memories and the child within them are covered in dust—cold, distant, a lifetime away. But while time had not been friendly to Eponine, who was now the one dusted with the road, it appeared to have been much kinder to the little servant girl she hardly recalls.

The woman before her now has hair the color of honey that falls in soft waves over her shoulders. Her dress is an unimaginable lavender, a royal looking color that seemed to embody the phrase _only the best_. A delicate bonnet surrounds her even more delicate face and, like the sun, she is almost painful to look at in her radiance.

A mix of emotions is swept up within her. Jealousy? Bitterness? Or was it something softer, like envy? Or softer _still,_ like admiration? 

She wonders if Cosette would even remember her. Part of Éponine wishes she won’t because just _look_ at how hard life has been to her dress and her shoes. How hunger took away all of her curves and how pining after Marius had robbed her of self care. How you could smell the earth on her skin and yesterday’s rain in her hair.

Who else in the entire world knew her as a child who “knew what to wear” and could compare her to the weathered urchin she was today? Only this golden example of grace and femininity before her. And it would be too much to admit that she’d fallen so far.

However, despite all of this, Éponine _still_ would have preferred to be the one to bump into her instead of Marius. 

In that moment, her world began to change.

.

Éponine would do whatever Marius asked. Anything at all. And it was all terribly frightening, unbelievable exhilarating, and most of all dangerous to love someone so unconditionally like that.

She had burned so quietly, so fiercely, for so _long_ that she could consider nothing else. She pinned her daily motives, actions, and heartache all on the sliver of hope that one day he may _notice_.

But Marius only seemed to notice her when he needed something.

So, Éponine naturally accepts the request to find out where Cosette lives because, if she was useful to him, that meant she occupied his thoughts for a moment. And, for now, that’s as close as she could get.

Éponine was good at her work—stealthy, skillful, with footsteps as silent as a cat’s and the ability to dissolve into shadow just as quickly as she came. But seeing as this particular job involved both the love of her life and the ghost of her past, she must had been distracted. For, when she rounds the gate, there Cosette stands on the other side of it.

They both jump at the shock of that. Éponine considers bolting but that would only seem more alarming and suspicious. Cosette holds her voice in her chest, deciding whether this indicated danger. But when she does speak it is the _last_ word in the entire world her night visitor wanted to hear:

“Éponine?”

Éponine swallows hard. High emotion was hard to overcome with wit and often resulted in unwanted honesty and confessions. Éponine gives her both in telling her that she also remembers:

“Cosette.”

“All these years,” Cosette whispers quietly in the garden, just as stunned as Éponine is, “How…how have you been?”

“Look at me. You’ll see your answer,” Éponine says, surmounting the initial shock and allowing the bitterness to give her the strength to be harsh. If she had things her way she wouldn’t even _be_ here, delivering this angel’s residence to the man who owned her heart and soul.

But despite the vitriol, Cosette smiles softly and what a divine smile it is. Éponine doesn’t know whether to hate her because of it or revel in the impressiveness of such effortless beauty. One she couldn’t seem to achieve herself.

“All I can see is that that you grew up to be quite lovely.”

Éponine’s heart nearly stops. So long had she ached to hear such soft words, but as fate would have it, Marius wasn’t the one to deliver them. She remembers him in that moment and her heart grows harder.

“Don’t mock me.”

Cosette’s smile fades a bit but, wouldn’t you guess it: sadness looked just as beautiful on her.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” is all she says, very quietly.

Éponine gives a quick jolt of a nod and her feet fly her back into the night as if they were winged.

.

“Did you find her?” Marius asks as Éponine enters the dwellings of Les Amis.

Éponine leads him back to Cosette’s abode and watches long enough for them to meet at the gate before she can’t bear to watch anymore. Silently, she slips around the corner.

As she waits for this hell to be over in the dark, her thoughts dwell on Marius out of habit. How could he _not_ be drawn to Cosette? Especially when even Eponine could see why anyone would find her desirable.

And she _did_ see it. And hear her soft words. _You grew up to be quite lovely._

It would have been so easy for Éponine to simply return the sentiment, compliment her as well, but no. She just assumed she was being mocked because no one had ever noticed her before except when she was needed.

But what if she wasn’t being mocked? What if Cosette had been genuine? Not simply polite, but honest? She wondered if she returned to see her whether she would be given a second chance, treated with the same kindness, to see if Cosette had any more sweet words left to say.

What else could Cosette see in her that no one else could? She was curious to know. 

So, when her father and his gang show up afterwards to rob Valjean’s home, Éponine makes the decision to cry out that fateful scream partly for Marius’ sake…but also Cosette’s. She accepts the crack of Thénardier’s hand across her face and hopes her sacrifice was worth it.

And as she lies in the rain, she contemplates how On Her Own she is. How her dreams would always be just that. How Marius would _never_ her love her, even if she gave her very life for him.

But maybe.

Maybe someone else would.

For a girl who had _hoped_ her whole life away to no avail, it seemed frivolous to hope just a little bit more. Nonetheless, she takes the letter Cosette leaves for Marius at the gate and holds onto it until her heart sorts itself out.

.

In the morning, a carriage will be called for Cosette and she will be on her way to England, to safety. Far from the gunshots at the barricade which will take place tomorrow. Far from war and anger and thieves and police inspectors with vendettas. 

Far from everything Éponine wishes she could escape herself. Far from Éponine, period. Just as quickly as beauty came into her life, it left her just as fast. But that had always been the case. She should be used to it by now.

So she binds her chest and puts her hair up in a hat for the impending storm. Only, when she shrugs off her dress to change into more masculine clothes, she remembers the letter as it falls out of her pocket.

Instantly, she’s filled with guilt. She _should_ give it to Marius. As much as it would hurt her to hand the man she loved words from a woman she also…was quickly admiring, Marius at least deserved to read them before he offered his life up to the barricade.

So, she bends down to pick up his note and notices that it is addressed to _her._

_To Éponine_

_To Éponine_

_To Éponine_

And for _everything_ that life had stripped her of, all the love it took from her sensitive heart without gratitude, now it seemed she was finally being offered some love in return.

.

Éponine doesn’t go to the barricade that day. Instead, she clings, tripping, to the back of a carriage she almost missed until is slows for her and a honey-haired woman allows her inside.

And with a quick nod to her father, all is cleared, and to England they all go.

So Éponine tries to remember, every day of her life, how damn grateful she is to hold Cosette when it snows, bundled safe and warm. How glorious Cosette is when the hem of her nightdress sweeps about her feet, what a privilege it is to tie her bonnet bow for her beneath her chin in the summers.

And, above all, how heavenly it was to be loved in return.

For the first time in her life, all of that love she had to give would be offered to the _right_ person this time. The feel of Cosette’s lips against her skin made her shiver, all the genuine praise that was whispered, lush compliments and endless admiration felt overwhelmingly strong after such an absence of kindness, but it all still felt so right.

 _Ah,_ Éponine realized, then and there, _so this is what love is meant to be._

But If Marius had taught her nothing else it was this: 

_Your world could be changed in just one burst of light._

_._

The End


End file.
